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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062882">I'll Be (Your) Home for Christmas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles'>stardustedknuckles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Beauyasha College AU [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>College AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Prompt Fill, holiday fluff, photographer yasha, the concept of home</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:29:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Eve, thirty-six hours before Beau returns home from her obligatory family holiday event to spend a real, if belated, Christmas with Yasha. She's just got to hang in there a little while longer.</p><p>Homebrew Advent Prompt Days 11 and 13: lights and sweater</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beauregard Lionett/Yasha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Beauyasha College AU [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024825</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>226</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'll Be (Your) Home for Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Holiday fluff rights.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>From her window, Yasha could see lights and wreaths and trees left on in surrounding apartments, even as their inhabitants were away visiting family. Snow dropped quickly and quietly from the sky, and the light in the parking lot fell on an unbroken expanse of shimmering snow gone orange and blue with the gentle hills of sleeping cars. The world looked like a postcard, like everything was set up just right for a photo shoot.</p><p> </p><p>But even if Yasha had felt any stirring to change from her pajamas and the old shirt that smelled of Beau more than her now, even if she took her camera in hand and wandered the evening away, all of her shots would just feel empty. So she'd been here, curled up under a blanket with a book she hadn't yet been able to absorb, missing Beau and counting down the hours.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha lifted the collar of the big t-shirt and breathed it in gently, watching the snow. Her fingers closed slowly around the fabric as she stared into the middle distance and wondered what Beau would be up to. She'd described the family gathering as a kind of new money thing, where everyone dressed especially well and ate expensive food because it was expensive and not necessarily because it was much good.</p><p> </p><p>Beau had said there were usually lots of lights and decorations, too, and though Yasha imagined they were probably fairly austere she hoped they were cheering Beau nonetheless. She looked around at the strands of lights Beau had brought home the day before they went to the market together, red-faced and mumbling something about how winter made people sad and she'd had money to burn.</p><p> </p><p>Which Yasha knew was a lie, but she had said nothing and simply kissed Beau until she smiled reluctantly and wandered off to find the tiny nails. The lights hung over the door and the window, sparkling relentlessly against the dimness of the apartment. Beau had brought home a few other decorations too - a tiny plastic Christmas tree, a Santa mug full of candy canes, and other little knickknacks - and in the warm glow of the strands of light they looked softer somehow.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha's phone lit up, and she shifted her position on the couch to reach for it. A selfie from Jester, pressed against a blushing Fjord under a blur that Yasha surmised was probably mistletoe. She smiled and tapped back a heart the way Jester had shown her those months ago, and then she flipped back on a whim to her conversation history with Beau.</p><p> </p><p>Like Jester, Beau's last text was a photo. But unlike Jester, photos from Beau of herself were rare gifts. Beau didn't tend to take photos of herself, but she liked when Yasha did. It wasn't hard to see that she'd taken this one because Yasha wasn't there to take it herself, and even with her phone's terrible camera she looked incredible.</p><p> </p><p>She was standing in front of a full-length mirror, wearing the silvery gray suit Jester had picked out for her to go home in - a combination present and middle finger to the long history of dress pressure. Beau was naturally slim, and the cut of the material emphasized her body to give her the illusion of height even as she slouched just slightly. She had a white shirt partially unbuttoned underneath, and around her neck was the deep blue ascot Yasha had picked out and given her before she left. It set off her eyes as Yasha had known it would, and even her slight frown had a tilt to it that suggested she was pleased with what she saw.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha certainly was.</p><p> </p><p>The caption just said "40 hours," and even though they were already down to thirty-six it still felt too far.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha thumbed the phone off and leaned her head back against the couch. Eleven was a perfectly respectable time to go to sleep, she thought, and if she slept ten hours, had a long breakfast, and spent the afternoon out taking photos she'd knock out nearly half the remaining time til Beau was home.</p><p> </p><p>It was as good a plan as any, but maybe she'd make a drink first.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha padded to the kitchen and, after a moment of hesitation, pulled up a Christmas music playlist on her phone before reaching for the pot and the tin of cocoa powder. She settled quickly into the routine of it, opting after a moment of thought to go for schnapps tonight instead of the peppermint extract she usually preferred.</p><p> </p><p>As she hummed along softly with the music and stirred the warming milk, there came a knock. Yasha paused, frowning, and checked her phone. No messages, eleven oh five PM. Who would be coming by so late? A neighbor, maybe? She turned the heat off and moved to press her eye to the peephole, concerned.</p><p> </p><p>Her breathing stopped. "Beau?" Heart in her mouth, she pulled the door open, hardly daring to believe.</p><p> </p><p>It was in fact Beau, hands fisted in her pockets and her posture heavier than Yasha had possibly ever seen it. Yasha's thoughts were having trouble arranging themselves correctly, and all she could think at first was <em>that photo didn't even come close</em>. Beau looked absolutely stunning.</p><p> </p><p>Then she blinked and saw past Beau's sharp clothes and hair to the rest. Now that she was looking more closely, could see where snow had fallen across Beau's head and shoulders to form damp clumps of melting ice that clung to her collar and her sleeves and the hem of her pants. She had to have walked here from town, Yasha realized - campus busses weren't running.</p><p> </p><p>"You have a key," she said dumbly.</p><p> </p><p>Beau looked up at her now with a cracked sort of thing that might have been a smile in another life. "My phone died. I…I didn't want to assume." Her voice was rough, and that with the residual swelling around Beau's eyes told Yasha the melting snow probably contributed little in the way of the dampness shining on her cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha was still trying to make sense of things. Beau was here? But it was Christmas Eve, she had a dinner…she struggled back to the present as Beau sniffed and wiped her hand over her face. She didn't immediately play off the motion, and that was enough to set off quiet alarms in the back of Yasha's mind even before she continued. "I'm not important to them." Her voice was dull. "I had to get out and I couldn't tell you I was coming. I can come back when we planned if -" Yasha reached with both hands and pulled Beau inside, stepping backwards to push the door shut with her foot without letting go of her grip on Beau's body against hers.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha just stood them there for a full minute, breathing Beau in and holding on until the tension in her frame began to dissipate and a long exhale shuddered out of her. Beau pressed her damp forehead against Yasha's shoulder, shaking and breathing hard as Yasha felt ice melting from her clothes across the tops of her bare feet and into her shirt. Beau was stiff in a way she wasn't used to, and her hands when they came up to grip at Yasha's shoulder blades bled cold through her in waves the longer they remained there.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha pulled back and took one of Beau's hands in both of hers. "Beau, you're freezing." Her fingers were white and chapped, and in the amber glow of the Christmas lights over the door she could see the same was true for the exposed skin of her face. Three miles to the bus station, give or take. An hour walking in the snow. "Come here."</p><p> </p><p>Beau let herself be tugged down the hall to the bedroom, shoes and all, and only when Yasha had divested her of her blazer and shirt did she seem to catch up and make a motion to help. Yasha took care of the button and zipper of Beau's suit pants and knelt to pull off her shoes before taking off the rest. When she stood up, Beau had managed to pull her bra over her head but was struggling to make her fingers work to remove the ascot. Yasha took it gently from her and set it on the bed before reaching for a blanket.</p><p> </p><p>Beau shaking was gradually fading by the time Yasha turned back to her with fresh clothes yanked from the drawer - Beau's boxers, Yasha's everything else. Only once Yasha had finished tugging her softest and most oversized sweater over Beau, where it hung slightly off a slim, bare shoulder, did either of them speak.</p><p> </p><p>"I shouldn't have picked them over you." Beau's voice was a long way from steady, but she sounded stronger.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha tipped her chin up and kissed her as her other hand reached to release Beau's hair from its ties. "Let's take care of you tonight, and when Christmas is over we can talk about everything wrong with that statement."</p><p> </p><p>Beau nodded hesitantly, and her voice was small. "Is it really okay that I'm early?"</p><p> </p><p>Her hair came free, and Yasha wasted no time pushing her fingers through it in the way she knew Beau liked. Another day she might have worried about doting too much, making Beau retreat, but she already had retreated - to Yasha. "Did you see what I was doing when you came in?" she asked. Beau shook her head. "I was making hot chocolate like you do. With the milk and the peppermint schnapps."</p><p> </p><p>Beau frowned at her a little in confusion. "You don't like the schnapps. They're too sweet."</p><p> </p><p>"They are," Yasha agreed. "But the drink doesn't taste like yours without it."</p><p> </p><p>She watched Beau struggle for a moment to process. "You made it too sweet just because…?"</p><p> </p><p>Yasha pressed their foreheads together. "Because I missed you, Beau. Because I wanted you home with me." She smiled. "Even if you like your drinks sweet enough to choke a hummingbird."</p><p> </p><p>Beau looked away, blinking furiously. "Oh." She swallowed, and if Yasha hadn't been able to read her lips in the lamplight she might have missed her next word. "Home?"</p><p> </p><p>Yasha cupped her cheek but didn't press. "Home," she said. "If you want it."</p><p> </p><p>Only a month ago she'd asked Beau to stay, only two weeks ago did she crawl up into the bed with Yasha for the first time without being invited. Yasha wanted more for Beau, wanted it so much she thought she might break with it. She wanted to come in from class to find Beau sleeping, or stretched out on the floor studying, or any one of the hundreds of other things people did when they were relaxed. More than anything, she wanted to be that for Beau. She wanted Beau, when she looked at her, to feel the same contentment Yasha did in every quiet moment they spent together.</p><p> </p><p>"I do want it," Beau said softly. "I think…mostly I just want you. And." she blew out a breath, seemingly oblivious to the way Yasha's heart was constricting at the admission. "I'm not sure what it all means, but you asked me once, to tell you what I wanted." She looked pensive. "I think tonight I figured it out - I want the opposite of whatever that was." She gave Yasha a lopsided smile, and short of her turning up unexpectedly tonight it was the best gift Yasha had ever received. "That's you. And that's what I got." She spread her hands. "Big ol' pile of sap."</p><p> </p><p>She made a little surprised noise when Yasha wrapped her arms around her and kissed her soundly, and then her smile came back to curl against Yasha's mouth as she relaxed. "I like sap," Yasha murmured. "Especially yours."</p><p> </p><p>Beau grinned. "Oh I know." Yasha huffed and pinched her ass just enough to make her jump, laughing as she swatted at Yasha's hand without real intent.</p><p> </p><p>Yasha caught Beau's hand in hers and held it as she looked over at the bedside clock. "Fifteen minutes to midnight," she said. "Want to make drinks and bring in Christmas together on the couch?"</p><p> </p><p>Beau opened her mouth, closed it again. "You're handing me a whole nother joke, but you look so cute right now. Yes," she added before Yasha could ask her to elaborate. "I very much want to do that with you. Come on." She started down the hallway, tugging Yasha behind her.</p><p> </p><p>It was the first time Beau had led her anywhere in the apartment, she realized. It made her think of the first time they'd met, Beau leading her up the steps to the closet. She'd been so confident and open, and the glimpse of that again here and now pleased Yasha so much that she completely forgot to ask Beau what the second joke would've been.</p><p> </p><p>But Beau didn't forget to demonstrate, and they brought Christmas in well into its first hour.</p>
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